


The Pact

by kylobolton



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Cunnilingus, F/M, Incest, Menstruation, Menstruation Kink, Outdoor Sex, Puberty, Sibling Incest, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 15:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12820716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kylobolton/pseuds/kylobolton
Summary: As strong-willed as she is, Cersei is frightened by the prospect of womanhood. Luckily, she won't need to face it alone.Blood, incest, coming of age.





	The Pact

**Author's Note:**

> A relatively short piece with a bit of fluff as well as the usual depravity you've come to expect if you know me at all. Pretty tame by my standards.
> 
> Anyway, as the warnings state, this involves underage characters and incest, so if that will offend you then it costs $0.00 to click on any of the other hundreds of fics on this site.
> 
> I shouldn't even need to put this to justify anything, but if it matters I am a survivor of incest.

“Some day your brother will make a handsome bachelor,” an older lady gushed. “He’s already so handsome.”

Cersei stabbed her boar cutlet aggressively, earning a glare from her father. Tywin wouldn’t tolerate such outbursts, and usually Cersei could restrain herself. Not right now. It was only 10 in the morning and she was already ready for the day to be over. It had begun at just 4, when she awoke to find scarlet smears all over her bed sheets.

The maids had tittered and clapped. Oh joy, she was a woman! Now she could be sold like livestock to the highest bidder and pop out squealing whelps until her womb couldn't take it anymore. Until she died like her mother.

She’d locked herself in the privy, sobbing until her cheeks were slick and snot ran down her face. Her father must have been notified by now, and he would surely begin strategizing immediately. She was just thirteen, and now her fate was laid out before her. Suppressing her choking gasps, she strode out of the privy and down a twisting path beyond the gardens.

She knew that he would meet her here. It had been their private enclosure for years—shielded by tangled brush and a huge, rustling willow. Neither of them had ever established this aloud. One day at nine years of age they both arrived, and they’d since continued to find each other there whenever one of them was in need.

“I’m a woman.”

She said it without emotional inflection, her expression neutral, waiting to see how he would react without hinting at the appropriate response. She wasn’t sure she even knew what that response would be.

“Oh,” he replied, eyebrows raising for a just a moment. “Oh.” He shifted his weight awkwardly, suddenly not sure what to do with his arms.

“That’s all?” Cersei snapped. “Pah!”

“What do you want me to say?” he asked. “Congratulations? I’m sorry?”

“I don’t know!” Cersei gasped, eyes welling up once more. “I don’t know.”

Jaime was the only person on Earth who ever witnessed her in this vulnerable state. Who ever saw her act like a normal girl. If she fell off a horse or fell ill—tore a fine gown or tore her heart—she would not cry. If there were ten people, five, even a single soul around her—she would not cry. Who they were made no difference. Peasant or nobleman, man, woman or child—she would not cry. The only one she ever cried for was Jaime.

The tears continued to fall as his lips pressed against hers. She loved when their hair became one tangled mass—just blonde coils with no clear beginning or end. Ever since they formed in the womb they had often felt like a singular entity rather than two distinct people. Cersei’s happiest moments were spent entangled with Jaime, breathing in time like two lungs in a larger creature.

“Father will make me marry,” Cersei cried, breaking away from Jaime’s lips. “You can’t let him Jaime—you can’t.”

Jaime kissed her again to avoid making a promise he couldn’t keep. After a few moments holding each other, he offered a more feasible vow.

“We will always be together, sister,” he whispered. “I swear it.”

She wanted to believe him so badly. She needed to believe.

He leaned in to kiss her again, and the tension eased in her shoulders. It was impossible to feel pain in his arms. She was addicted to the calmness he brought her, something so rarely experienced in her daily life full of bickering shrews and tedious rituals.

A tear slid down her cheek as he cupped her budding breast through her gown. He kissed her neck, clumsily, but in earnest. She gasped again, but this time not in despair. They dropped to their knees in unison, caressing each other with more passion than grace. Cersei didn’t need to be dignified with Jaime. She didn’t need to be anything.

Jaime gently pushed her onto her back, and her skirt inched up. She laughed as the grass tickled her bare legs, but clenched them together when she remembered the initial cause for this meeting.

“I’m…I’m bleeding,” she said plainly. There was no hint of objection in her statement, so Jaime just smiled and hitched her dress up a few more inches. 

“I’m a man. I’ve seen blood,” he scoffed. “It doesn’t frighten me.” 

Cersei laughed.

“Girls see more blood than men do in a lifetime. Boys go off to war to prove how brave they are. Just stay home with the flock of senseless hens that occupy King’s Landing and see all the blood you could ever want.”

“What if I only want to see your blood?” Jaime said with a smirk. “Our blood—it runs through both our veins.”

“You’re depraved,” Cersei scoffed, raising an eyebrow.

Jaime laid a kiss upon her lips and slowly moved downwards.

Cersei fidgeted nervously, looking around.

“No one’s here,” Jaime reassured her. “It’s just us.”

“Just us,” she repeated softly, like a mantra. “Just us.”

Jaime pulled her undergarments down now, pushing aside unwieldy layers of fabric.

Cersei’s face grew hot. Embarrassment crept in.

“Don’t look!” she yelped, clamping her legs together once more. But when Jaime slid his hands between her thighs and pried them apart, she didn’t resist.

Wordlessly, he threw the blood soaked rag aside, leaving her exposed on the ground. 

“You don’t even know what you’re doing,” she said in a breathy voice.

“I think I can manage,” Jaime chuckled, cocksure as always. In reality, his chest throbbed with nervousness. He had heard stablehands talk of such things after nights at the brothel, but executing it properly was another matter.

He’d never kissed her like this before—but now it felt right—a blood pact between the young lovers. A promise.

Jaime pressed his lips against her inner thigh, cautiously. She was right, he didn’t know what he was doing—only that he wanted to be closer to her—as close as one human could possibly get to another. 

Grazing his lips against her, he felt her shudder. The metallic taste of blood was on his tongue, and he licked it off his lips eagerly. There was no going back.

“I…”

Cersei began to protest but her words trailed off. He was running his tongue over her now, and she moaned involuntarily.

Jaime followed her motions, letting her guide him. It was true he was inexperienced, but he and Cersei had the uncanny ability to move as one. He gently bit her inner thigh and she laughed with surprise.

“You’re so stupid,” she mocked. “So…st-upid…”

She trailed off as Jaime returned to his original task, eliciting moans of pleasure from her. No, more than pleasure—joy at this new closeness. All traces of self-consciousness were gone now, leaving only bliss. She panted and squirmed, fingers tensing and digging into the dirt. She never wanted this to stop—she wanted to spend the rest of eternity connected to her brother, bound by blood and ecstasy. 

When she came, she yelled so loudly that Jaime grew nervous, despite their remote location. He crept up to embrace her and kiss her with blood-stained lips. Perhaps she should have been disgusted, but she felt only that glowing warmth inside her that came from closeness with Jaime.

“That was…” she began, grasping for words. “You’re quite good at that.”

Jaime laughed and kissed her again. Praise from Cersei was difficult to attain, but that only made it sweeter.

They lied there in silence for quite some time, pressed to each other’s chests. 

“When I marry,” Cersei said after a long while, “I don’t want this to stop.”

“It won’t,” Jaime promised. “Now that I’ve tasted you, I don’t think I can be satisfied by anything else for the rest of my life.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Cersei taunted, and then closed her eyes. The sun was inching downwards, and soon she would need to return to the castle. For now, all that existed was the breeze on her face and the constant pulse of Jaime’s heart—his blood, her blood—forever.


End file.
